But your box sits on the carpetWhere the rain-soaked catReturns to lick itself dryBefore gracing you with aSmall contribution.

Daily lifeI wake at six or rather I am wokenBy the cat that wants to go outsideSo up I get and go downstairs to let the catEscape to where she hunts her tiny preyAnd I go back to bed but shut the doorSo she can’t wake us up again.

A lovely doze and then we realiseThat time is marching by and we must make a moveOr else the day will all be gone,Just like the weeks and months and years,And we’ll be old and wonder where the time dissolvedInto a murky soup of past experienceThe only thing that separates us from our end.

Waking
DreamTied by ropes, I watch the scene,Feel the
pain of expected lossOf laptop,
passport, wallet and case,Left
on a plane, or in a café,Beside
my chair when I’m giving a talk,Ready for
lifting by a sneaky thief.All
lost in my dream, though I know they are not.
The dawn light comes and I look down To see
the case beside my bed,Safely
guarding my precious life.Cards
and wallet and laptop too,

When deadlines start to weigh upon me,The vivid dream comes back againTo
haunt a mind that never learns